Title: Charmed?
Author: Helene
e-mail: aishiteru@nightmail.ru
Rating: PG13
Teaser: Sailor Moon attends a Valentine Day ball hoping to find her true love. What if Darien decides to show up… hmm… instead of Tuxedo Mask? And what if the ball involves ice dancing?
Timeline: First Season
Disclaimer: I do not claim to be a doctor, or to know how to play piano. Is that not good enough? Well, then, I guess… Sailor-Moon-does-not-belong-to- me! There, happy?
Charmed?
Streaks of peace and quiet were inching their way insistently into the world, vying with the chirping of the birds, rustling of the trees, and crackling of the wood in the Great Fire. Sundry shadows of ochre reigned there, waiting to explode into a vision. Concerns and worries floated away together with interests and affections. Already, she could say that the divination was going to be a success.
"… and so we just have to come to the ball!" – chirped a gleeful voice from the entrance to the room. "Raye, tell them we just have to attend!" – it proceeded with an expert whine, enough to sound pleading without annoying the addressee.
"Meatball Brains, do you realize that you have effectively ruined my vision!" – she yelled, proving to be immune to her friend's expedient.
"But Raye" – sniveled Serena, refusing to acknowledge defeat, - "it is important." Her azure eyes brimmed with tears, and her mouth fashioned a full-fledged pout.
"I thought it was all about some party."
"It is not just a party, it is a huge ball, one that the princess might want to attend, and the Negacreeps may attempt to interrupt, so we just have to be there!"
Raye stood up from her kneeling position in front of the fire, and turned to regard her friend with mocking incredulity. Having been acquainted with Serena for over five weeks, she came to believe that it was against the girl's nature to attend to duty before pleasure, at least in the cases when her personal preferences did not put into jeopardy life and happiness of others.
"Did you just imply that the only reason why you want to go to the ball is performing your duty?" – Raye queried before casting a greeting smile at two newcomers that entered the Great Fire Hall together with the source of her most recent annoyance.
Yet again, she wondered whatever supreme forces and powers had been evoked to bring the three-some together. What could the buoyantly flighty Serena and have in common with the shy and sensible Amy? How come such delicate creatures like the two of them did not feel threatened by the athletic and notoriously aggressive Lita? And what on Earth made the open girls befriend an irritable introvert like Raye herself? Was it just the fact that all of them were Sailor Scouts, who had to protect the world from the Negaverse and find the lunar princess?
Birds of feather should flock together, but it had never been the case with the four of them. They were different to boot, even their appearances conspiring to increase the gaps between them. Serena seemed to be what people refer to as your regular blond, with only twin round twists of hair on her head, sparks of innocent curiosity in her blue eyes, and sincere joy of her smile to distinguish her from the infamous species. A long mane, arranged into a couple of pigtails, 4.9 height, and a slender complexion would have completed the romantic heroine image, had she not managed to spoil it by tripping all over the city.
Amy's dark blue hair, cut above her shoulders, lacked both profusion and length. Her eyes, as big and blue as Serena's, held a look of calm wisdom, and, although she also was slim and rather short, her bearing was competent and confident.
The tall and powerful Lita with her chestnut ponytail and ever-alert gaze of emerald eyes seemed to loom over the pair, her brisk strides making the other girls struggle to keep up with her. Lita's attraction was one of an Amazon, not bearing any semblance to the Victorian beauty of Serena, or the intelligent appeal of Amy.
I must appear a fine compliment to the group, - mulled Raye with a sarcastic smirk, - the fiery eastern type, a perfect package of long ebony hair, huge dark eyes, moderately seductive body, and irritable personality to ward the guys off in spite of everything else. Well, if they can't stand the heat…
"Raye! Hey, Raye, I am talking to you! You can't insult me and then space out without allowing me to argue with you!" This time around Serena's whine was indignant rather than pleading, but it did serve the purpose: Raye's bout of thinking was interrupted, and she fixed Serena with an annoyed glare.
"Why not!" – exploded the diviner. "You do it all the time!"
"Do not!" – came the expected retort.
"Do too!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
The tongues were drawn out with professional dexterity. The hands on the hips, the feet firmly on the ground, the mighty opponents waged yet another battle for superiority. They should have known better.
"Stop being petty?" - ordered an exasperated Amy, cutting the confrontation short.
"Sorry Ames," said Serena sheepishly. "You won't hold it against me, and vote against coming to the ball, will you?" – she proceeded anxiously.
"Actually, the idea does have some potential," acknowledged the studious girl. "If the Sailor Scouts sign up for the event, it will be advertised, and the princess will be able to find us. On the other hand, the Negaverse will learn about that too, and they may attempt to trap us along with the civilians."
"What on Earth are you talking about?" – asked Raye irately, having lost the tread of the discussion.
"Sere saw an ad about a skating ball that will take place on Saint Valentine's Day. She believes that it is advisable that we go there in case the Negaverse attacks, or the princess appears."
"Sure, Leets, that is exactly what she has in mind," – spouted Raye. "And she does not think at all about, say, snagging a guy in the process," she concluded arrogantly.
"Hey," – protested Serena, - "and what's wrong with snagging a guy on V- day?"
"Nothing," – said Amy, - "but Sailor Moon should not date a civilian lest he is used by the enemy to blackmail her."
"But Amy, do you expect me not to date at all?" – asked Serena as her features contorted into a mask of sheer horror.
"I expect you not to date in your Sailor Moon guise" – explained Amy, unfazed by her friend's antics.
"Who said anything about dating as Sailor Moon? I'll go as Serena."
"We can't go in our civilian forms. What if there's nowhere to transform?" – reasoned Raye.
"Well, I've somehow managed when I had gone to Dia embassy ball!"
"Serena, we are going there to search for the princess, and if she comes, she should be able to recognize us. Therefore we need to go as the Sailor Scouts," coaxed Amy.
"Yea, spoil my Saint Valentine's Day, why don't you," grumbled Serena, indicating her consent with the plan.
"Perk up, Sere," advised Lita kindly. "Who knows, maybe Tuxedo Mask will show up there. He always comes when you morph into Sailor Moon."
"Do you really think so?" – said Serena hesitantly, her eyes acquiring a dreamy look, her lips opening slightly.
"Why do you think about snagging a guy when you go all mushy over Tuxedo?" – inquired Raye scathingly, ready to commence another fight.
"I want to find my true love," – admitted the small girl earnestly, - "and, although Tuxedo Mask is the most likely candidate, I'm not as sure about it as I would like to be."
*********************************************************************
The fingers drumming on the plastic surface of the counter, the face taut and withdrawn, the back stiff, he was perusing the front page of the recent newspaper, without paying any heed to the usual hustle and bustle of the Crown Arcade. His mind had long since gone into overdrive, and was not coming back anytime soon. Nothing in his past had prepared him for such a blow to his sanity, even finding out that he was Tuxedo Mask having been easier to digest.
What was she thinking, having her picture taken and printed in the paper? Was it a display of vanity, or was she up to something? Were her friends coming to the ball, or was she going stag? Maybe, she arranged for the publicity so that he spot the ad and come to spend the evening with her? What conceit! Sure, his heart always fluttered at a gaze of those two cerulean chasms of hers, and the tingly sensations, which he would get every time he swept her in his arms to whisk her away from peril, did not beseem a professional protector. But he was competent enough not to let his mind dwell on her… for too long.
"Whach'a looking at, Dare?"
"Huh?" Darien snapped out from his inner rant, and looked up at his best friend to see him lean over the counter, peek at the paper, and grin roguishly.
"So you're drooling all over the local superhero," diagnosed Andrew, a blond and green-eyed employee of the establishment. "I would have thought you to be immune to the charms of unattainable celebrities, especially meatball-headed ones."
"She is not meatball-headed" – said Darien vehemently, giving in to the reflex of defending Sailor Moon, and forgetting to deny his attraction to the girl.
"Funny, but I'd say the same about Serena, and their hair looks exactly the same. Come to think of it," – continued Andrew musingly, - "so do their eyes, and their legs."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Drew," – drawled Darien darkly.
"No, really, if you're so riveted by Sailor Moon, why don't you find Serena as attractive?"
"Because she," – emphasized Darien, - "is the Meatball Head, klutzy, whiny, and immensely annoying."
"She also is kind, caring, blithe, friendly, and available," – pointed out the aproned blond.
The bells above the arcade door chimed as vibrantly as girl laughter that cascaded from the entrance.
"Speak of the devil, she has just waltzed in," marked Darien, his superb hearing having allowed him to distinguish the giggles of one Tsukino Serena, his official girl-enemy, and the subject of his recent conversation with Andrew. "Come on, let me show you just how friendly she is."
*********************************************************************
"I've never seen anyone get so embarrassed!" managed Serena between peals of laughter. "He… He just stood there, gaping as if he had actually asked me about something really personal!"
"Yea," acquiesced Lita, "when you said that telling him your age could mean disclosure of your identity, his face went paper white. I bet he thought that he had warded you off, and that his boss would sack him for scaring you away!"
"And then," an uncharacteristically grinning Amy joined in, "he went red because he did not know what to say! And to think that had we gone as our usual selves we would have felt as bad as the guy."
"Thanks God he was too mortified to ask if we knew how to skate," breathed Raye, "or we would have had to admit that at least one of us is too klutzy to even lace her skates."
"I can too lace my skates," hollered Serena, rising to the bait.
"Oh, yea? Are you speaking from experience?"
"Well, no," conceded the blond with a sign, her shoulders slumping, the wind gone from her sails. "I've never actually skated, but it can't be that hard, can it?"
"I wouldn't even try if I were you, Meatball Head," bellowed a deep voice from behind. A deep male voice, velvety, melodious, and far too familiar.
"That is why you're you, and I am me," informed Serena intelligently.
She turned to face her archenemy, her chin rising and her shoulders squaring, as she went into an attack mode. Her face became taut, and her narrowed eyes shot sparks of sheer rage. Her diminutive hand gripped the back of her chair, as if to keep her from pouncing at him. He might actually have felt disconcerted by the little display had he considered her to essentially be as kind and considerate as Andrew had maintained her to be.
"I would rather be a frog than a crybaby like you," he snarled.
"You already act like one," she parried, "cold, and sleazy, and repelling. Tell me, do you think you will find a princess to kiss you?"
"I am not looking for one in the first place," lied Darien, "whereas you are desperate to find your own knight in shining armor, only all your efforts will be futile, since nobody in his right mind will tolerate you."
"You… You…" Whatever tenacity she had mustered to face him vanished with his last words. However, even though she was no longer able to fight back tears, Serena was determined to tell him exactly what she thought. "You are a cruel person, Darien," she continued, somehow managing not to sniff, and making no move to wipe the moist drops from her cheeks. "I may not have the best grades in the world, and my balance might leave much to be desired, but there are much more important traits, and I have never ever given you a reason to be so cruel. I am so sorry that I have met you, and spoken with you, and bumped into you. Good bye, and good riddance."
Serena dashed by Darien, and flew through the entrance, breathing heavily and still trying to contain the sobs that had built in her throat. Meanwhile, five shell-shocked people recovered enough to glare at her offender.
"You knew that she wishes for love and romance, you knew how much mean to her, and yet you go and stomp on her most sacred dreams and feelings. You had dragged me over there to prove that Serena is unfriendly, and annoying, and what I've witnessed was you provoking and discouraging the poor thing!" roared Andrew. "If I were you I would have run after her and apologized, do you hear me?"
"What? Did you not hear her tag me a frog, and declare to the world that I am unworthy of love? My only fault is giving as good as I've gotten."
"You are not a teenage girl," stated an incensed Raye, "and you were the one to start this stupid argument in the first place. I'll go to talk to her," she told her friends, moving to leave the booth.
"Wait, we're coming with you," said the girls.
"Would you tell her that I didn't mean to be so harsh?" offered Darien. His only answer was the usual hustle and bustle of the arcade. "Oh, why do I bother?"
*********************************************************************
Away.
Farther.
Faster.
No reason why, no matter where.
No such luck.
No.
"I just want to be alone right now. Please, Raye…"
Her voice sounded foreign. Dull, subdued, low, it had to belong to a grieving individual, broken, depressed, and beyond consolation. It was beseeming that she should feel that way. After all, she had been deprived of all her illusions, and her dreams had been cruelly dispelled. She had a right to be the way she was, she thought, trying to tear her wrist from her friend's grasp.
"You do not belong alone, Meatball Head," informed Raye earnestly. "You belong with your friends, and your crushes, or Luna and your family."
"And with your true love, when you have finally found him," reminded Amy.
"Like he is going to want me with him," she whimpered, tugging at the wrist again. "Darien was right, I'm a klutz, and a ditz, and there's no reason why I should even go to that skating ball, except for helping you find the princess."
Serena stood with her back to them, her arms limp, her chin touching her collarbone. They went round, and gasped at her tearful eyes, wet and puffy cheeks, red nose, and bitten lips.
"He was wrong, Serena. He is bitter, and proud, and he wanted to hurt you. But he was wrong. All the guys in that rink will fall for you, and you should be aware of that, unless you there are meatballs inside your head, as well as on its top."
"They will fall for Sailor Moon, the glamorous super-hero, Raye," said Serena with a pitiful sniff, "and when they get to know me…"
"They will fall for the beautiful and cheerful girl, who is compassionate enough to risk her life so that they could live in peace," claimed Lita, unwilling to witness another self-berating spree.
"And who wants to meet them enough to brave a skating rink without taking skating lessons," added Amy.
And right then and there the four girls bore witness to a miracle. The twin streams of salty liquid on Serena face turned into rivers, her stance of sorrow became one of sheer horror, and her mouth opened as she wailed.
"Can't a person skate without studying! I hate school!"
"We can morph into Sailor Scouts and go to the rink, if you…" Amy was interrupted as a slim arm shot out towards her and a frail hand held onto her wrist with an iron grip.
"At least she is no longer crying," signed Lita, watching a short girl with a stack of books in her hand being dragged by an even shorter one with flying pigtails.
*********************************************************************
He did not feel bad about it, truly, he did not. His each and every word had been true, and he was under no obligation to conceal his opinions, especially from the girl who had never spared him hers.
As if he needed the princess, he snorted derisively. She was the one to beg for his help, and she was the one who had to promise to reveal his past to him. That was all there was to it. He would help the princess, and the scouts, and go on living a normal life.
He was not in need of a girl to come and change him. And if he were, he could find plenty of beauties, willing to become his one and only. Even the gorgeous Sailor Moon was willing.
He would go to the ball, he decided. Even if it were just to prove the irritating Meatball Head wrong, he would go to the ball, and charm as many single girls as he could.
*********************************************************************
Erm, R&R?
Author: Helene
e-mail: aishiteru@nightmail.ru
Rating: PG13
Teaser: Sailor Moon attends a Valentine Day ball hoping to find her true love. What if Darien decides to show up… hmm… instead of Tuxedo Mask? And what if the ball involves ice dancing?
Timeline: First Season
Disclaimer: I do not claim to be a doctor, or to know how to play piano. Is that not good enough? Well, then, I guess… Sailor-Moon-does-not-belong-to- me! There, happy?
Charmed?
Streaks of peace and quiet were inching their way insistently into the world, vying with the chirping of the birds, rustling of the trees, and crackling of the wood in the Great Fire. Sundry shadows of ochre reigned there, waiting to explode into a vision. Concerns and worries floated away together with interests and affections. Already, she could say that the divination was going to be a success.
"… and so we just have to come to the ball!" – chirped a gleeful voice from the entrance to the room. "Raye, tell them we just have to attend!" – it proceeded with an expert whine, enough to sound pleading without annoying the addressee.
"Meatball Brains, do you realize that you have effectively ruined my vision!" – she yelled, proving to be immune to her friend's expedient.
"But Raye" – sniveled Serena, refusing to acknowledge defeat, - "it is important." Her azure eyes brimmed with tears, and her mouth fashioned a full-fledged pout.
"I thought it was all about some party."
"It is not just a party, it is a huge ball, one that the princess might want to attend, and the Negacreeps may attempt to interrupt, so we just have to be there!"
Raye stood up from her kneeling position in front of the fire, and turned to regard her friend with mocking incredulity. Having been acquainted with Serena for over five weeks, she came to believe that it was against the girl's nature to attend to duty before pleasure, at least in the cases when her personal preferences did not put into jeopardy life and happiness of others.
"Did you just imply that the only reason why you want to go to the ball is performing your duty?" – Raye queried before casting a greeting smile at two newcomers that entered the Great Fire Hall together with the source of her most recent annoyance.
Yet again, she wondered whatever supreme forces and powers had been evoked to bring the three-some together. What could the buoyantly flighty Serena and have in common with the shy and sensible Amy? How come such delicate creatures like the two of them did not feel threatened by the athletic and notoriously aggressive Lita? And what on Earth made the open girls befriend an irritable introvert like Raye herself? Was it just the fact that all of them were Sailor Scouts, who had to protect the world from the Negaverse and find the lunar princess?
Birds of feather should flock together, but it had never been the case with the four of them. They were different to boot, even their appearances conspiring to increase the gaps between them. Serena seemed to be what people refer to as your regular blond, with only twin round twists of hair on her head, sparks of innocent curiosity in her blue eyes, and sincere joy of her smile to distinguish her from the infamous species. A long mane, arranged into a couple of pigtails, 4.9 height, and a slender complexion would have completed the romantic heroine image, had she not managed to spoil it by tripping all over the city.
Amy's dark blue hair, cut above her shoulders, lacked both profusion and length. Her eyes, as big and blue as Serena's, held a look of calm wisdom, and, although she also was slim and rather short, her bearing was competent and confident.
The tall and powerful Lita with her chestnut ponytail and ever-alert gaze of emerald eyes seemed to loom over the pair, her brisk strides making the other girls struggle to keep up with her. Lita's attraction was one of an Amazon, not bearing any semblance to the Victorian beauty of Serena, or the intelligent appeal of Amy.
I must appear a fine compliment to the group, - mulled Raye with a sarcastic smirk, - the fiery eastern type, a perfect package of long ebony hair, huge dark eyes, moderately seductive body, and irritable personality to ward the guys off in spite of everything else. Well, if they can't stand the heat…
"Raye! Hey, Raye, I am talking to you! You can't insult me and then space out without allowing me to argue with you!" This time around Serena's whine was indignant rather than pleading, but it did serve the purpose: Raye's bout of thinking was interrupted, and she fixed Serena with an annoyed glare.
"Why not!" – exploded the diviner. "You do it all the time!"
"Do not!" – came the expected retort.
"Do too!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
The tongues were drawn out with professional dexterity. The hands on the hips, the feet firmly on the ground, the mighty opponents waged yet another battle for superiority. They should have known better.
"Stop being petty?" - ordered an exasperated Amy, cutting the confrontation short.
"Sorry Ames," said Serena sheepishly. "You won't hold it against me, and vote against coming to the ball, will you?" – she proceeded anxiously.
"Actually, the idea does have some potential," acknowledged the studious girl. "If the Sailor Scouts sign up for the event, it will be advertised, and the princess will be able to find us. On the other hand, the Negaverse will learn about that too, and they may attempt to trap us along with the civilians."
"What on Earth are you talking about?" – asked Raye irately, having lost the tread of the discussion.
"Sere saw an ad about a skating ball that will take place on Saint Valentine's Day. She believes that it is advisable that we go there in case the Negaverse attacks, or the princess appears."
"Sure, Leets, that is exactly what she has in mind," – spouted Raye. "And she does not think at all about, say, snagging a guy in the process," she concluded arrogantly.
"Hey," – protested Serena, - "and what's wrong with snagging a guy on V- day?"
"Nothing," – said Amy, - "but Sailor Moon should not date a civilian lest he is used by the enemy to blackmail her."
"But Amy, do you expect me not to date at all?" – asked Serena as her features contorted into a mask of sheer horror.
"I expect you not to date in your Sailor Moon guise" – explained Amy, unfazed by her friend's antics.
"Who said anything about dating as Sailor Moon? I'll go as Serena."
"We can't go in our civilian forms. What if there's nowhere to transform?" – reasoned Raye.
"Well, I've somehow managed when I had gone to Dia embassy ball!"
"Serena, we are going there to search for the princess, and if she comes, she should be able to recognize us. Therefore we need to go as the Sailor Scouts," coaxed Amy.
"Yea, spoil my Saint Valentine's Day, why don't you," grumbled Serena, indicating her consent with the plan.
"Perk up, Sere," advised Lita kindly. "Who knows, maybe Tuxedo Mask will show up there. He always comes when you morph into Sailor Moon."
"Do you really think so?" – said Serena hesitantly, her eyes acquiring a dreamy look, her lips opening slightly.
"Why do you think about snagging a guy when you go all mushy over Tuxedo?" – inquired Raye scathingly, ready to commence another fight.
"I want to find my true love," – admitted the small girl earnestly, - "and, although Tuxedo Mask is the most likely candidate, I'm not as sure about it as I would like to be."
*********************************************************************
The fingers drumming on the plastic surface of the counter, the face taut and withdrawn, the back stiff, he was perusing the front page of the recent newspaper, without paying any heed to the usual hustle and bustle of the Crown Arcade. His mind had long since gone into overdrive, and was not coming back anytime soon. Nothing in his past had prepared him for such a blow to his sanity, even finding out that he was Tuxedo Mask having been easier to digest.
What was she thinking, having her picture taken and printed in the paper? Was it a display of vanity, or was she up to something? Were her friends coming to the ball, or was she going stag? Maybe, she arranged for the publicity so that he spot the ad and come to spend the evening with her? What conceit! Sure, his heart always fluttered at a gaze of those two cerulean chasms of hers, and the tingly sensations, which he would get every time he swept her in his arms to whisk her away from peril, did not beseem a professional protector. But he was competent enough not to let his mind dwell on her… for too long.
"Whach'a looking at, Dare?"
"Huh?" Darien snapped out from his inner rant, and looked up at his best friend to see him lean over the counter, peek at the paper, and grin roguishly.
"So you're drooling all over the local superhero," diagnosed Andrew, a blond and green-eyed employee of the establishment. "I would have thought you to be immune to the charms of unattainable celebrities, especially meatball-headed ones."
"She is not meatball-headed" – said Darien vehemently, giving in to the reflex of defending Sailor Moon, and forgetting to deny his attraction to the girl.
"Funny, but I'd say the same about Serena, and their hair looks exactly the same. Come to think of it," – continued Andrew musingly, - "so do their eyes, and their legs."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Drew," – drawled Darien darkly.
"No, really, if you're so riveted by Sailor Moon, why don't you find Serena as attractive?"
"Because she," – emphasized Darien, - "is the Meatball Head, klutzy, whiny, and immensely annoying."
"She also is kind, caring, blithe, friendly, and available," – pointed out the aproned blond.
The bells above the arcade door chimed as vibrantly as girl laughter that cascaded from the entrance.
"Speak of the devil, she has just waltzed in," marked Darien, his superb hearing having allowed him to distinguish the giggles of one Tsukino Serena, his official girl-enemy, and the subject of his recent conversation with Andrew. "Come on, let me show you just how friendly she is."
*********************************************************************
"I've never seen anyone get so embarrassed!" managed Serena between peals of laughter. "He… He just stood there, gaping as if he had actually asked me about something really personal!"
"Yea," acquiesced Lita, "when you said that telling him your age could mean disclosure of your identity, his face went paper white. I bet he thought that he had warded you off, and that his boss would sack him for scaring you away!"
"And then," an uncharacteristically grinning Amy joined in, "he went red because he did not know what to say! And to think that had we gone as our usual selves we would have felt as bad as the guy."
"Thanks God he was too mortified to ask if we knew how to skate," breathed Raye, "or we would have had to admit that at least one of us is too klutzy to even lace her skates."
"I can too lace my skates," hollered Serena, rising to the bait.
"Oh, yea? Are you speaking from experience?"
"Well, no," conceded the blond with a sign, her shoulders slumping, the wind gone from her sails. "I've never actually skated, but it can't be that hard, can it?"
"I wouldn't even try if I were you, Meatball Head," bellowed a deep voice from behind. A deep male voice, velvety, melodious, and far too familiar.
"That is why you're you, and I am me," informed Serena intelligently.
She turned to face her archenemy, her chin rising and her shoulders squaring, as she went into an attack mode. Her face became taut, and her narrowed eyes shot sparks of sheer rage. Her diminutive hand gripped the back of her chair, as if to keep her from pouncing at him. He might actually have felt disconcerted by the little display had he considered her to essentially be as kind and considerate as Andrew had maintained her to be.
"I would rather be a frog than a crybaby like you," he snarled.
"You already act like one," she parried, "cold, and sleazy, and repelling. Tell me, do you think you will find a princess to kiss you?"
"I am not looking for one in the first place," lied Darien, "whereas you are desperate to find your own knight in shining armor, only all your efforts will be futile, since nobody in his right mind will tolerate you."
"You… You…" Whatever tenacity she had mustered to face him vanished with his last words. However, even though she was no longer able to fight back tears, Serena was determined to tell him exactly what she thought. "You are a cruel person, Darien," she continued, somehow managing not to sniff, and making no move to wipe the moist drops from her cheeks. "I may not have the best grades in the world, and my balance might leave much to be desired, but there are much more important traits, and I have never ever given you a reason to be so cruel. I am so sorry that I have met you, and spoken with you, and bumped into you. Good bye, and good riddance."
Serena dashed by Darien, and flew through the entrance, breathing heavily and still trying to contain the sobs that had built in her throat. Meanwhile, five shell-shocked people recovered enough to glare at her offender.
"You knew that she wishes for love and romance, you knew how much mean to her, and yet you go and stomp on her most sacred dreams and feelings. You had dragged me over there to prove that Serena is unfriendly, and annoying, and what I've witnessed was you provoking and discouraging the poor thing!" roared Andrew. "If I were you I would have run after her and apologized, do you hear me?"
"What? Did you not hear her tag me a frog, and declare to the world that I am unworthy of love? My only fault is giving as good as I've gotten."
"You are not a teenage girl," stated an incensed Raye, "and you were the one to start this stupid argument in the first place. I'll go to talk to her," she told her friends, moving to leave the booth.
"Wait, we're coming with you," said the girls.
"Would you tell her that I didn't mean to be so harsh?" offered Darien. His only answer was the usual hustle and bustle of the arcade. "Oh, why do I bother?"
*********************************************************************
Away.
Farther.
Faster.
No reason why, no matter where.
No such luck.
No.
"I just want to be alone right now. Please, Raye…"
Her voice sounded foreign. Dull, subdued, low, it had to belong to a grieving individual, broken, depressed, and beyond consolation. It was beseeming that she should feel that way. After all, she had been deprived of all her illusions, and her dreams had been cruelly dispelled. She had a right to be the way she was, she thought, trying to tear her wrist from her friend's grasp.
"You do not belong alone, Meatball Head," informed Raye earnestly. "You belong with your friends, and your crushes, or Luna and your family."
"And with your true love, when you have finally found him," reminded Amy.
"Like he is going to want me with him," she whimpered, tugging at the wrist again. "Darien was right, I'm a klutz, and a ditz, and there's no reason why I should even go to that skating ball, except for helping you find the princess."
Serena stood with her back to them, her arms limp, her chin touching her collarbone. They went round, and gasped at her tearful eyes, wet and puffy cheeks, red nose, and bitten lips.
"He was wrong, Serena. He is bitter, and proud, and he wanted to hurt you. But he was wrong. All the guys in that rink will fall for you, and you should be aware of that, unless you there are meatballs inside your head, as well as on its top."
"They will fall for Sailor Moon, the glamorous super-hero, Raye," said Serena with a pitiful sniff, "and when they get to know me…"
"They will fall for the beautiful and cheerful girl, who is compassionate enough to risk her life so that they could live in peace," claimed Lita, unwilling to witness another self-berating spree.
"And who wants to meet them enough to brave a skating rink without taking skating lessons," added Amy.
And right then and there the four girls bore witness to a miracle. The twin streams of salty liquid on Serena face turned into rivers, her stance of sorrow became one of sheer horror, and her mouth opened as she wailed.
"Can't a person skate without studying! I hate school!"
"We can morph into Sailor Scouts and go to the rink, if you…" Amy was interrupted as a slim arm shot out towards her and a frail hand held onto her wrist with an iron grip.
"At least she is no longer crying," signed Lita, watching a short girl with a stack of books in her hand being dragged by an even shorter one with flying pigtails.
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He did not feel bad about it, truly, he did not. His each and every word had been true, and he was under no obligation to conceal his opinions, especially from the girl who had never spared him hers.
As if he needed the princess, he snorted derisively. She was the one to beg for his help, and she was the one who had to promise to reveal his past to him. That was all there was to it. He would help the princess, and the scouts, and go on living a normal life.
He was not in need of a girl to come and change him. And if he were, he could find plenty of beauties, willing to become his one and only. Even the gorgeous Sailor Moon was willing.
He would go to the ball, he decided. Even if it were just to prove the irritating Meatball Head wrong, he would go to the ball, and charm as many single girls as he could.
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Erm, R&R?